


Misfire

by Fidollwa



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt No Comfort, basically what would happen if Arthur stood up just a bit too soon, not future compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fidollwa/pseuds/Fidollwa
Summary: What a difference a few seconds could make.Or: Arthur gets up a bit too soon and ghosts make for poor target practice.————(Credit for the idea goes to phamtoms-lair on tumblr. Their post inspired this sad fest which can be found here: https://phantoms-lair.tumblr.com/post/633549361561878528/okay-but-do-you-know-what-would-have-been)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 222





	Misfire

He... he couldn't do it. 

In that split second of watching his former friend fall, Lewis couldn't do it. The man hadn't even let out a scream. All Lewis could think of was how painful the impact was going to be. Maybe if he was lucky Arthur would've hit something vital and bled out before he could really process it. But Lewis kept replaying it. His own fall, on the other end of this situation. 

His anchor shuddered. Lewis hesitated, raising a hand. The stalagmites below him started to crumble away like sand. He didn't know what he wanted. Just that he didn't want to experience that. Didn't want _Arthur_ to either.

In the next second he heard a bang and a hole was blasted through his chest. It wasn't so much painful as it was startling, sending a shock through him. His anchor bounced away, echoing in the sudden absence of sound as the truck reformed around them. Shock turned to disbelief turned to anger as he turned.

Lance stood at the door, shotgun still smoking and looking a bit pale. As Lewis turned the man reloaded and shot again. And again. And again. 

Unlike the first, they all passed harmlessly through Lewis's body like he wasn't even there. Another shot hit him in the chest, sending Lewis back half a step. _Oh,_ that’s why.

The man finally ran out of bullets, looking up at a very angry ghost. Lewis seized the man by the shirt and hauled him into the air. The man shouted and tried to fight the ghost off by hitting him with the shotgun. That went about as well as shooting him, had as Lewis batted the weapon away. 

He was about ready to throttle the man when he heard coughing behind him. Lewis turned, having forgot about the other mechanic entirely only to freeze, eyes shrinking to pin pricks. 

The deadly stalagmites from before had turned back into a harmless pile of cardboard boxes. At some point Arthur had picked himself out the pile and only managed got a step or two forward. Lewis met his eyes as Arthur looked up from the bloodstain rapidly spreading across his stomach. 

"Lew-" he tried to say only to cough, blood bubbling up between his lips. 

Arthur lost his balance then, stumbling backwards and throwing out a hand to try and catch his balance. Distracted as he was, Lance was finally able to struggle out of his grip. As Arthur collapsed back into the boxes Lance hit the ground running, scrambling to his nephew's side.

"Artie!" Lance cried, gathering Arthur up into his arms. His coat was already off as Lance pressed it into Arthur's stomach. The orange colour darkened too quick, turning a muddy brown and Arthur coughed and spluttered. "Jesus, Arthur, hang on. I didn't- Don't you- _god_ don't you die on me boy!"

Lewis couldn't move, frozen where he stood, hand still hovering in the air. The wall behind Arthur was littered with dents and bullet holes. He'd stood up at some point and-

"Get some help damn it!" Lance shouted at him, probably had been for a while now, tear tracks staining his face. Did he expect Lewis to help, especially since he was just trying to kill his nephew a few minutes ago, or was this just pure desperation. 

But he didn't think it mattered. It wasn't going to matter. Arthur's breaths were rattling in his chest now, audible from where Lewis stood. His skin was too pale and the blood puddle gathering underneath him, seeping into cardboard and slicking the floor, was too big. Lance still pressed down on the wound. A stream of curses and desperate apologies were practically shouted at Arthur. 

Lewis took a step back, a glint from the floor catching his eye. His anchor. Cracked and gray and laying only a few feet from him. Lewis didn't know how he didn't realize Arthur had picked it up. 

Numb, Lewis stooped down and picked it up with shaky hands. 

The picture had changed. It was all of them together now, like it had been before the cave. All happy and smiling and-

Lewis hit his knees, clutching the locket so hard he was liable to break it himself. Hot tears streaked down his face as Lance cried out in anguish. _This wasn't what he wanted._

But that hardly mattered anymore.


End file.
